The Siren's Call
by HannahSakura2010
Summary: Francis will never forget what he had see on the deserted island two years before. Ever since then, he has felt a calling to go back to the island and to find the one woman that will change his life forever. Pirate!France X Mermaid!Seychelles
1. Chapter 1

Two years.

It has been two years and he has never told anyone about what he saw; what happened. He has never told anyone about _her._

In two years, he has never gone back to that small island.

Until now.

* * *

**Two years previously…**

Captain Francis Bonnefoy stood on the pristine white sands on the small island and breathed in the fresh air. The crew of his vessel moved around him, carrying parcels to the deserted shore. They would make camp on the beach that night, tired of being on the ship for so long.

Francis walked forward and tapped his first mate on the shoulder. "Gilbert, I am going to explore the island. It seems deserted, but I want to make sure that we will have no unexpected visitors to our campfire tonight."

The crimson-eyed Prussian grinned. "So you are leaving me in charge? Kesesese! Take your time! Or do you want some backup?"

Francis shook his blonde head. "No, I will go alone. You are in charge of the men when I am gone. Make sure they do not get lazy, mon ami."

"You bet!" Gilbert crowed loudly, excited to be able to order people around. He turned back to the crew and started barking orders.

Francis walked away towards the trees. This little island was beautiful, with pure white sands, crystal clear water, and healthy, green trees. He hoped to find some fresh water and fruit to fill up the ship's rapidly disappearing reserves. The tiny island seemed to be completely deserted. Francis entered the line of trees and sighed from relief. Here under the trees, it was much cooler than out on the beach under the hot sun. His blue coat trailed around his boots as he walked through the dense vegetation.

In the trees, he heard the call of several tropical birds. Insects and small animals made their presence known as Francis tramped through the dense undergrowth. There were indeed fruit trees here. He made a note of where they were so that he could instruct his crew to retrieve them later.

They had been sailing for several weeks now. They had not had a chance to return to shore because of that bastard Englishman Arthur Kirkland. They had had several run-ins with him over the past few weeks and he always managed to escape relatively unharmed. A scowl made its way onto Francis' face as he recalled the English pirate's smirk. He would like nothing better than to blast that smirk off of Kirkland's face with a well-placed bullet. He hoped that he would get the chance someday soon!

As preoccupied as his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice that the trees were beginning to thin out on either side. Francis suddenly found himself in a small cove leading out into the ocean. Bright fish played in the crystal clear waters and trees lined the cove, making the air cooler and more pleasant. All of these thoughts were pushed from his mind as he focused on a figure standing in the center of the cove.

A beautiful young woman wearing a bright blue dress stood knee deep in the waters of the cove. She had long brown hair that was tied up into pigtails with bright red ribbons. Her skin was tanned dark. She held her dress up above the water line as she stooped down, observing the fish swimming around her legs.

Francis stared at the girl in shock, his blue eyes wide. The girl didn't seem to notice him. Francis could see her lips moving as she bent down, almost as if she were talking to the fish.

Francis finally found his voice and called, "Hello there!"

The girl whirled around, her skirts flying out around her. She stared in shock at Francis, blue eyes wide and startled.

Francis smiled at her and stepped forward into the water. "Hello," he called again. "I mean you no harm, friend! Will you speak with me?"

The girl slowly walked forward towards Francis. Francis followed her every movement with his eyes. The girl was so graceful. When she was a few feet away, she stopped.

"Don't be afraid, ma cheri," Francis said gently, though his eyes were roaming over the young woman's body. "Come closer!"

The girl took another step forward, holding Francis still with her eyes. Such a gorgeous blue… Without warning, she shot forward past Francis, running into the trees.

Francis cursed and gave chase, dashing after her into the trees, not caring about the branches smacking him in the face. He caught occasional glimpses of blue as he followed the girl in a mad chase. The girl eventually led him out to another deserted beach. Here, Francis stopped, panting for breath. The girl was nowhere in sight.

Francis swore. She had got away! He suddenly caught a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. He whirled around.

The girl's dress was lying abandoned on the ground, hidden partially in some vegetation. Francis walked forward and picked up the dress. He stared at it for a moment. A predatorial grin made its way onto his face.

"If this is how you want it, lovely, then I will be happy to oblige," he purred, looking around at his surroundings. He looked up in the trees. The girl was nowhere to be found. He stood still with his senses attuned to his surroundings, listening for any sign of movement, the rustle of leaves, the crackle of a twig breaking underfoot. He heard nothing.

Francis spent the next twenty minutes searching the area. He still could not find the girl.

Francis sighed in disappointment and draped the dress over his arm. It was not like the young woman had anywhere to go. From what he had seen, the island was completely deserted. It seemed the girl was alone here. He would find her sooner or later.

Francis made his way back to his anxious crew. They had gotten a fire started with some driftwood in his absence and were cooking some fish over it. They were in good spirits already and even more so when Francis told him about his encounter with the young woman in the cove.

"And alas, gentlemen! She seems to have forsaken her lovely dress," he sighed in mock horror, brandishing the dress for his crew to see. There were some snickers and even one or two catcalls among the crowd. "I think that we should find the poor girl and keep her warm, since she must be so cold running around naked! Search the island, men! If you find her, bring her back to me!" The pirates cheered and ran off into the forest in pairs to search leaving Gilbert and Francis alone on the beach.

"Man, was that true?" Gilbert asked him. "Did you really meet a girl _here?_ Are there more people here?"

"Yes I really did meet her. This is indeed the dress she was wearing. I have not seen any more people around here. Maybe she was a shipwreck victim."

"In that case, she should be quite grateful to us if we take her off this island. Maybe she'll play with us!" Gilbert snickered, his red eyes alight.

"I think that she can be persuaded, mon ami," Francis said, provoking a laugh from the white haired pirate.

"Let's hope they find her soon! I'm ready to have some fun!" Gilbert snickered.

Three hours of searching yielded no results, however. Francis swore himself hoarse in his mind as his crew came back, tired and defeated. The pretty young woman was nowhere to be found.

* * *

"How could she disappear like that?" Francis muttered as he undressed inside his cabin. The one good thing that had come out of today was that the crew had discovered a fresh water source in their search for the young woman. He sighed in disappointment and sank down into his bed alone, imagining what it would be like to have the girl naked beside him. He shivered in lust at the thought of her pretty face crying and begging for more as he pounded her into the sheets. He sighed and turned over to go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would find her.

Francis was awoken with a start in the early hours of the morning by the sound of another person moving around in his cabin. He allowed no one in his cabin except Gilbert on occasion. He could see a faint silhouette of a person in the faint moonlight streaming through the window of the cabin. He slipped his hand under his pillow and grasped the knife he kept under it. All of his crew members were asleep on the beach. He had come back alone to sleep in his bed. No one should be on the ship, much less in his cabin!

He suddenly felt a presence at his bedside and he lunged, grabbing the intruder around his waist and pulling him down on the bed, pressing his knife to his throat. The person let out a startled cry and Francis froze. The cry was too high pitched to be a man. He slid his hand up the person's stomach to their chest. Sure enough, his attacker was a woman! He smirked as he lit a candle.

It was the girl from before. She had gotten her dress back from its place on a chair. She was squirming in his grasp, fighting the hold he had on her. Francis grinned and squeezed her breast, provoking a shriek.

"You have come back to me, my love," he purred into her ear. His tongue sneaked out and caressed her ear.

The girl elbowed him hard in the side. Francis hissed in pain and made to tighten his grip, but his momentary distraction was all the leeway the woman needed to wriggle free of his arms. She slipped out of his grasp like a fish, backing up quickly. She was clutching another knife in her hand, which Francis assumed she was going to stab him with. He got off the bed and advanced on the girl, picking up his pistol and pointing it at her.

"Calm down, darling," he murmured. "I'll be gentle if you beg me. Don't make me do anything I will regret."

The woman scowled at him. She kept her eyes locked on Francis as she dodged around him, backing up. Francis saw her plan a second too late. The girl backed to the open window. Before Francis could do anything more than shout at her, she jumped out of the window. Francis ran to the window and looked out. He could dimly see down to the ocean water in the darkness. His eyes scanned the water for any sign of the girl. She had to surface… Sure enough, the girl's head emerged from the water a moment later. She looked back up at Francis in the moonlight. The two stared at each other for a brief moment before the girl dived back down beneath the water. What Francis saw next made his blood run cold and was fixed into his memory.

As the girl dived down beneath the waves, Francis caught a glimpse of a fin. A scaly tail broke the surface for a brief moment before it disappeared. Francis watched the water in shock for several minutes. The girl didn't surface.

Francis closed the window and locked it tightly. He backed up and sat on the edge of his bed. He thought back on what he had seen. The girl… had a tail… Francis remembered her as he first saw her: bending down to the water as if talking to the fishes that dwelt there.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought that he was imagining it. The glimpse was only brief and could have been caused by moonlight on the water. Humans didn't have tails! Still, he couldn't fall asleep again after that experience. His crew found him bleary eyed in the morning, clutching his knife in his hand. They had left the island as soon as possible that day.

* * *

In two years, he had told no one about the incident, nor had he gone back to that island, until today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! Chapter two is out!**

* * *

Francis stood on the deserted beach for the first time in two years, scanning his surroundings a bit nervously. He had not wanted to come back, but he had been unable to stay away. His eyes darted around and tried to penetrate the line of trees, looking for any signs of a blue dress.

Two years had gone by, but he still thought about the woman daily. He imagined what it would be like to hold her, to sleep with her. Her gorgeous blue eyes haunted his dreams at night.

Francis was still not sure what he had seen that night. Surely, the woman was a regular human girl! She couldn't have had a tail! That was completely impossible. Francis must have imagined it.

Still, Francis had heard plenty of stories of the sirens that were believed to haunt strange waters and lure unsuspecting sailors to their watery deaths. He had never believed the stories of beautiful women with tails like fish, who were said to drag men under the water and eat them alive. He had never believed any of the tales, until the incident two years ago.

Francis questioned his sanity for returning.

His crew didn't share his nervousness, however.

"So we finally came back here! I've always wanted to!" Gilbert crowed, stretching his arms over his head and flopping down on the sand. "Once I get my hammock up on one of those trees, no one had better disturb me or deadly consequences will ensue!

"You won't do anything, Gil!" Antonio joked, coming up behind Francis.

The Spanish pirate had been sailing with them for the past week or so. Francis had jumped at the chance to have backup while he explored the island again. He suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to see the woman. He didn't know what he would do if he ever saw her again.

As if reading his mind, Gilbert spoke up. "I wonder if that girl you saw is still here, Francis. Do you still have her dress?"

"No, I must have misplaced it somewhere," Francis said, keeping his face blank as he lied. "I wonder if she is still here, too."

"What's this? A senorita?" Antonio looked interested at the prospect of finding a woman here. His first mate, Lovino, looked murderous.

"So what if there is a bitch here, Antonio?" Lovino snapped. "No one would look at you anyway, bastard! You are too stupid!"

"Aww! Is my little Lovi jealous?" Antonio cooed, nuzzling Lovino's brown hair and pulling him in for a hug. Lovino squawked and struggled against the hold the Spanish pirate had on him.

"Let go of me, bastard!" the Italian snapped and threw a punch at the side of Antonio's head. Antonio ducked and Lovino fell forward with the momentum of his punch. Antonio smoothly scooped him over one shoulder.

"I'm going to go take care of this," the Spaniard said, ignoring Lovino's furious struggles. "I will not have my little Lovi jealous! I will show him how much I adore him! I will be back later."

Francis sighed and wished Antonio farewell, watching with jealous eyes as Antonio moved back to a small lifeboat that he had taken to shore and dumped Lovino inside, much to the smaller man's loud protests and swearing.

Francis turned back to the island and resumed scanning the line of trees. So much for his backup.

"We should send the signal for the crew to come ashore. It's time to relax!" Gilbert exclaimed. He turned to the water without waiting for Francis' permission and held up the small mirror he had taken with him. He flashed it four times, then paused before flashing it another four times. It was the signal for the crew to load up the boats and come to shore.

Francis, meanwhile, found himself suddenly wanting to explore the island again. He wanted to look for the young woman. He grew more impatient by the second. He looked over his shoulder at Gilbert.

"I am going to look for the girl again, Gilbert. Will you come with me?" he asked.

Gilbert frowned. "Can't you wait until the others get here? Then we can all go!"

Francis shifted impatiently. "Never mind. I shall go alone. Make sure to get the crew to fill up our water barrels when they get to shore and look for fruit. I will be back soon."

"Whatever," Gilbert responded indifferently, turning back to observe the progress on the ships as the crew started to head towards shore.

Francis turned and practically ran into the line of trees.

Once under the trees' cool cover, he stopped to think. He really didn't want to go alone. What if the woman really was a siren? He forced that thought from his mind. He was not some scared child! He was Francis Bonnefoy! He was the captain of a ruthless pirate ship! He should not be scared of a woman! Besides, he had his knife and pistol on him. What could she do if he did find her? Francis straightened up at his decision. Besides, he wanted to keep the girl all to himself. His crew, or Antonio's, would just get in the way of that. He started walking off in a random direction.

Francis had no idea where he was going. He didn't remember the way to the pool where he had first seen the woman. He just started walking, drawing his knife and leaving marks on the trees he passed so that he could find his way back to the beach.

Even under the trees, it was still hot. Francis found himself sweating profusely and he ripped off his coat, draping it over one arm. His blue eyes scanned his surroundings warily.

As Francis walked, he realized that he was walking with purpose, as if he knew exactly where he was going. He had no idea where anything was on this island, but he seemed to be drawn towards something, almost as if he was being led by an invisible force. He grew a tad bit uneasy at the feeling. It was if he couldn't stop his feet from moving.

After a time, he heard a very strange sound.

It sounded almost as if someone was… singing…

Francis froze, his ears straining to listen. For a time, he heard nothing. Then, he faintly could make out a musical voice singing. He drew in a breath sharply. The voice was too high to be male. His feet seemed to move of their own accord and he stumbled forward, following the voice. The voice grew louder as he drew closer to the source. He broke through the trees into a familiar cove.

And there, sanding in the center of it, just as she had when he had first seen her, was the woman.

She was still in her blue dress with her hair tied up in pigtails, just as he remembered. She appeared not to have changed in the two years since he had last seen her. She was bent over again, singing in a lovely, enrapturing voice to the fishes that darted around her feet. It was as if the fish were dancing to the girl's voice.

This time, Francis didn't say anything, waiting for the girl to notice him. His eyes roamed over her body and focused on her feet. They were covered in dark skin, like a human. They were not scaly and definitely not fins. She was a regular human girl. Francis let out a soft sigh in relief.

The girl finally ended her song. She straightened up and stretched her arms over her head. She stood still in the center of the cove and Francis watched her for several minutes. Silence ensued.

Finally, the girl spoke.

"You have come back?"

Francis started at the sound of her voice. It was musical and lofty. She slowly turned to face him.

"You can speak my language?" Francis asked. She had been speaking in French.

The girl slowly nodded. "Why have you come back here?"

Francis ignored her question. "What is your name?"

The girl was silent, still standing in the center of the cove.

Francis sighed. "Do you even have a name?"

"I do, but I will not tell you it," the girl retorted, crossing her brown arms over her chest.

"Well, my name is Francis Bonnefoy," Francis told her. "And to answer your previous question, I am not sure why I came back here. To be honest, I did not want to."

"Then why have you returned?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Francis said before he could stop himself. His eyes widened at his words. "I mean, I was curious!" he said in a quick attempt to salvage his dignity. "Are you alone here?"

"I am never alone," the girl replied, but did not elaborate.

Francis shifted uneasily on his feet. The woman unsettled him greatly. She seemed like a normal girl, but the image of the fin that he had seen that night was burned into his memory. Was she more than she seemed? The woman was still staring at him with unsettling blue eyes. She seemed to stare right through him.

"Are you stranded on this island?" Francis asked. "We can take you back with us, if you want."

"No," was the woman's reply, though she didn't elaborate on which of Francis' statements she was responding to.

"At least tell me your name. I told you mine," Francis told her.

The girl hesitated, shifting her feet. Finally, she sighed. "I am Michelle," she said.

"Michelle," Francis breathed, trying out the name. "It is a beautiful name, for a beautiful young woman." Francis smiled at her.

Michelle's face remained impassive despite Francis' flattery. "What is your business here? What do you want from me?"

"Why are you here all alone? There are no people on this island besides you, yet you say that you are not alone here. Forgive me, but I do not understand." Francis took a step forward towards Michelle.

Michelle shifted on her feet again. She tossed one long brown pigtail over her shoulder, watching Francis warily.

"I told you that I am not alone," she said.

"Who is with you? The fish?" Francis asked, taking another step forward. His boot sank into the clear water.

Michelle said nothing, staring into Francis' eyes.

The image of the fin he had seen that night came again to the forefront of his mind. He wondered if he should confront her about that. But she seemed normal enough. Besides, Francis didn't know if he wanted to know the answer to that question.

Instead, he asked," Will you come with me? I have friends here on this island. You don't have to be here by yourself anymore, ma cheri."

The girl's face darkened and she took a step back. "You and your 'friends' are intruders here," she snarled, glaring at Francis. "Why can't you leave me in peace? Leave now! I will not go anywhere with you!"

Francis shivered in a sudden chill. The temperature seemed to have dropped. He stared at Michelle. Her dark hair was whipping around her face in a wind that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere.

"Calm down, please!" Francis said soothingly. "It was just an innocent question. Don't be angry with me for asking."

The wind seemed to die down, but Michelle continued to glare at Francis. "I will not go with you or your crew," Michelle repeated. Her voice had lost its cutting edge but still remained firm. "Will you leave now?"

"I cannot," Francis said.

"Why not?"

"Because we must restock the ships," Francis said. "We are out of fresh water and fruits. Why don't you help us? Once we are restocked, then we will leave. How about it, my friend? Will you help us?"

Michelle hesitated, clearly torn. Francis smiled sweetly at her to try to reassure the girl. Finally, Michelle nodded and took a hesitant step forward. "Fine, I will agree to help you, but you will keep your promise to leave after I do."

"Fair enough. I will leave as soon as you help us," Francis agreed. He held out his arm to the girl, who flinched from him. "There is no need to be afraid of me. I will not hurt you," Francis said soothingly.

"I do not trust you," Michelle retorted.

"I understand," Francis sighed. He let her pass him. He followed Michelle into the trees. He noticed that she was barefoot but didn't comment on it. Michelle moved gracefully throughout the trees and the underbrush, unaffected by the debris under her bare feet. Francis found his eyes being drawn to her swinging hips and he smirked.

They continued in silence, with Michelle leading the way. Francis dimly became aware of the sound of running water, and they suddenly came upon a spring.

"Here is water," Michelle told him. "It is fresh water, not salt water, so it is good for drinking. If you go that way," Michelle pointed in another direction," and go straight for a time, you will come out on the beach where your friends are. There is fruit in the trees that you can take with you. I will leave you now. Take what you want and go."

"As you wish, darling," Francis said and pounced on her.

Michelle shrieked as Francis forced her arms behind her back and tied them together tightly with some leather thongs from his belt. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around Michelle's mouth, cutting off her cries. Michelle glared at him with murderous intent in her dark blue eyes.

Francis smirked at her. "You said 'take what you want,' did you not? I find that I really want _you. _I think that I shall take you with me, Michelle." He hoisted her up in the air and flung her over his shoulder. "I already knew where the water was from my last visit. I think we will revisit my bedroom, non?" Michelle let out a yell and struggled in his grip. Francis wrapped an arm around her thighs to keep her from falling or kicking him. He turned and started off in the direction she had pointed out, ignoring her struggles.

Sure enough, within ten minutes of walking in a straight path, the sound of men's' voices were heard. Francis noticed the marks that he had made on the trees. Michelle stiffened in fear at the sound of the men and gave a quiet cry. Francis shifted her in his grip so that he was carrying her bridal style instead of over his shoulder. He grinned down at the struggling girl.

"Fear not, ma amour! I will not let them hurt you. As long as you do not struggle, that is." Michelle glared up at him silently. Francis chuckled and carried her out onto the beach.

The crew of both pirate ships stopped what they were doing as Francis appeared with Michelle.

"Did I not tell you she was real?" Francis asked them, setting Michelle onto her feet. Surprisingly, she shrank closer to him as if in fear of the other men. "If you gentlemen would excuse me, I would like to play with my new toy for a few hours!"

The crowd of men parted as Francis passed by them, dragging Michelle with him. He caught sight of Antonio, who was looking stunned at the sight of the girl. Francis caught Gilbert's crimson eyes as well.

"As always, you are in charge while I am gone, mon ami," Francis told him.

"She was real?" Gilbert asked incredulously.

Francis nodded and motioned to two of his pirates to row them back to his ship. He tossed Michelle into the boat and climbed in after her. He pulled the girl into his lap and wrapped his arms around her struggling form.

"Don't worry, ma amour," he whispered into her ear. "I'll be gentle with you."

The two men he had ordered got into the boat and took up the oars. Francis dimly heard Gilbert barking orders as the small boat set out towards Francis' ship.

* * *

**Well, I'm kinda mad. I read something on tumblr that said that Seychelles was a whore and that there are several hate blogs dedicated to her. Their basis? The Gakuen Hetalia RP game. *shakes fist* Please guys, even if you don't like something, don't bash it, because I guarantee you that someone else will like it and be offended. Like me, for one.  
**

**That's my rant for the day. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review for me if you liked it!  
**

* * *

Francis deposited Michelle onto his bed once he got back into his cabin. The young woman gave a muffled grunt as she bounced on the mattress. Her dress flew up a little, exposing more of her long, thin legs. Francis chuckled and placed a hand on her knee, slowly beginning to slide it up her thigh.

"You look absolutely appetizing, Michelle," he purred in a low, husky voice.

Michelle lashed out with a leg and kicked Francis in the gut. His breath left him and he fell hard onto his rear, trying to regain his breath. Michelle tried to climb out of the bed. Once her bare feet hit the floor, Francis managed to stand up and catch her about the waist. She gave another muffled screech and fought hard. Francis lifted her in the air and threw her back onto the bed.

"You aren't going anywhere," he snarled, still a little winded. He climbed onto the bed after her and caught her waist again, pulling her back onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her torso and held her as she struggled.

For such a slender girl, Michelle fought like a tiger! Francis was having a difficult time holding her still as she writhed in his arms. He was hoping that she would exhaust herself into not fighting anymore, but she was exhausting _him_ instead! Even with her hands tied, she was putting up a fierce fight.

Michelle finally managed to loosen the gag in her mouth. "You conniving bastard! How dare you put your hands on me?" she shrieked. "Let me go, you son of a-mph!"

Francis clapped a hand over her mouth. "Be quiet," he said, beginning to lose his temper. "I would stop fighting if I were you, Michelle. Do not struggle and I will have no reason to harm you."

Michelle attempted to bite down on his hand, but Francis yanked it away quickly. He moved his hand to her forehead and forced it back, baring her throat. He lowered his head to her ear. "I'm not going to do anything to you, dear," he said, aiming for a soothing tone of voice. "Calm down."

"Let me go!" Michelle growled.

Francis pushed her back down on the bed. He grabbed her bare feet and quickly bound them together to keep her from walking. Once he was finished, he got up from his bed and walked over to the opposite side of the spacious cabin.

Michelle froze for a moment as she heard on ominous clinking sound. She was lying on her stomach, unable to flip back onto her back, but she turned her head to the side. Francis was watching her closely while fingering a pair of iron handcuffs.

"I don't want to have to do this to you, ma cheri," he warned. "Stop struggling. I am not going to do anything to you."

"Then let me go!" Michelle begged. "What need of me do you have?"

"I refuse to leave a woman such as yourself alone on that island," he told her.

"How many times must I tell you? I was not alone!" she cried.

"There was not another human being on that island. I saw no signs of human life either of the times that I have been there," Francis retorted. "There was only you. And the fish. Don't lie to me and tell me that you were not alone."

Michelle was silent for a moment. "Let me go and never come back, or you'll pay dearly," she finally told him.

"I'll take my chances," Francis told her. He slid open a drawer of his desk and put the handcuffs back inside. "In the meantime, these will be right here, so behave." Francis walked back over to the bed and helped Michelle sit up. He grasped her chin in a gloved hand. Michelle glared back at him with her hypnotizing eyes, her white teeth bared in a snarl. "I will not do anything to you. That's not why I captured you, darling."

"Then what do you want from me?" Michelle asked.

Francis hesitated. He had acted without thinking when he captured her. All he knew was that he was attracted to her. How could he explain that to her?

"I have dreamed about you for two years," he told her. "I think that you will grace me with your companionship for now. Like I said, I won't do anything to you. Yet. I want them to be willing." He smirked as her glare intensified. "It's so much more fun when they scream my name."

"Bastard," Michelle spat. "I will not be your toy."

"We'll see about that," Francis told her. He grabbed some of the length of rope around her feet and tied it to the foot board. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Please let me go," Michelle begged again.

Francis ignored her and went to stand at his desk. "We are leaving first thing tomorrow morning," he said without looking at her. He took a small mirror out of a desk drawer. "I will be right outside. I must signal my crew. If you try to escape, you will regret it." He finally looked at her and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. Whether they were tears of irritation or despair, he did not know. When Michelle caught him looking at her, she turned her head to the side and gritted her teeth. Francis walked to the door of his cabin, holding the mirror. He left the door open so that he could keep an eye on the girl while he signaled Gilbert. It took a while, but he was finally able to catch the albino's attention. He flashed the message for a meeting before heading back into his cabin. Gilbert would come aboard and Francis would tell him the plan.

Michelle hadn't moved, although she was twisting her wrists, trying to loosen the bonds. "My first mate is coming," Francis felt compelled to tell her, if only to break the awkward silence. Michelle completely ignored him and turned her face pointedly away. Francis kept his annoyance in check and walked back over to his desk.

* * *

It took Gilbert and Antonio twenty minutes to arrive back at the ship. Francis met them on deck rather than allow them into his cabin. He felt rather protective of Michelle already and did not want even his best friends gawking at her. Again, he left the door to his cabin open so that he would know if she tried to escape.

"It seems as if our business on this island has concluded for the time being," he told Gilbert. "We will leave tomorrow morning."

The Prussian scowled. "So soon?" he said in a whiny voice.

Francis shot him a look. "This place doesn't seem right to me," he told them in a low voice.

Antonio cast a glance in the direction of his cabin. "Has the senorita explained why she was here alone?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"She still insists that she was not alone," Francis responded. "Something does not seem right about her."

"What do you mean?" Gilbert asked. He had a frown on his face as he stared in the direction of the captain's cabin.

Francis hesitated. He considered finally telling Gilbert and Antonio about that night two years ago. They were his best friends, after all. But his instincts told him that they wouldn't believe him. He didn't want them to think that he was crazy. He wasn't even sure himself about what he saw that night.

"Something just seems off about her," Francis said. He wouldn't tell them yet, not until he had some proof.

"You say that she thinks that she was not alone here," Antonio repeated his words. "She may be mad. People have gone crazy being deserted on islands for long periods of time. I would be careful around her, Francis."

"Of course I will be!" Francis told him. "In the meantime, I want half of our crew to sleep on the ship, Gilbert. That includes you." He held up a hand against the albino's protests. "Just for my peace of mind," he told his friend. "Antonio, do what you want."

"If you say that there is something off about this place, then I trust your judgments," Antonio said. "Maybe we should both cast off from here today? Lovi has been flighty ever since we got here as well."

"That may be a good idea." Francis ran a hand through his hair. "Gil, go back and tell the crew to stock up on the necessary items. We need full water supplies and a few crates of fruit as well. Tell them we may be casting off tonight."

"They won't like that," Gilbert informed him.

"Well then, they can deal with me." Francis put a hand on his pistol and gave his first mate a hard smile.

Gilbert nodded. "I'll tell them."

"Good." Francis turned to Antonio. The Spaniard seemed to be thinking. "What do you think?" Francis asked him.

The Spanish pirate snapped out of his thoughts, his deep green eyes refocusing. "I will leave when you do. We planned to sail to Singapore together, _si?_"

"Yes, we have planned that. Are you willing to leave tonight?"

Antonio nodded. "If you are, I will."

"Then we shall depart tonight," Francis announced with a flourish, making both of his friends roll their eyes at his antics. "Gilbert, go prepare everyone."

"Aye, Francis." Gilbert and Antonio both climbed down the rope ladder to the boat waiting for them. Francis glanced over the railing and waved to them before heading back into his cabin.

Michelle was where he had left her, although she was sitting with her back against the headboard. Her eyes narrowed at him as he walked back in and closed the door.

"You are leaving tonight?" Michelle asked. So she had been listening.

"We are," he confirmed, "as soon as we can restock the ships."

"Please, you have to let me go," Michelle begged him again. Francis didn't look at her. "Listen to me!"

"I have told you over and over again that releasing you is not an option," Francis said irritably. "Silence, before I decide to gag you again."

Michelle fell silent at his threat, but he could hear the bed creak slightly as she adjusted her position, likely fighting her bonds again.

"I suggest that you come to terms with the fact that you are coming with us, whether you like it or not," Francis told her firmly, finally looking at her. She was twisting her wrists. "And do not fight against me. You will regret it."

"You will pay for this, mark my words," Michelle warned, glaring daggers at him.

Francis decided to ignore her for the time being and sat down at his desk, pulling out a journal. He grabbed his quill and stated to fill in his log for the day. _What have I gotten myself into?_ he asked himself. Why had he taken the girl? She would only cause him trouble. He risked a glance at her. She was staring at the wall, apparently lost in thought, her sea blue eyes glassed over slightly. Francis wondered what she was thinking about. She was probably plotting a way to escape him. Francis cocked his head to the side while keeping his eyes on the girl. Like a siren, the girl had drawn him back to this island. Whether she was aware of it or not, Francis had always felt a sort of irresistible tug pulling his back to this place. He knew that it was because of her. Francis looked back at his journal. Whether she was human or not, he was attracted to this strange girl, and he wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon.

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***Kicks Francis hard* You're a jerk! I don't like writing Francis like this. I'll have him loosen up next chapter.  
**

**My friend Angel Longstring and I have been playing with the idea of making a Singapore OC since Singapore isn't a cannon character yet. Ours will be female. We still have to do research on her. She will appear in this fic, along with my friend's pirate Wales character. She is a female too, named Guinevere.**

**Please review! Your reviews make me want to write!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter, and probably the next few ones as well, are dedicated to Angel Longstring. Thank you for helping me overcome my writer's block! I love you, Mei! Thanks for sticking with me and being patient!**

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Francis opened the door to his cabin, carefully balancing a tray of food in one hand. He scowled at the lump on his bed.

Michelle had hardly spoken to him since the day that he had captured her. All she did was lie in bed with the covers over her head. It had been almost a week, and she had barely eaten anything, and even then she only ate if forced. She drank an enormous amount of water, though. He didn't know how she managed to drink all of it, but the pitcher was empty every time he came into the room.

Sure enough, when he put the tray of food on the table, he noticed that the water pitcher by the bed was completely empty. He would have to fill it yet again.

"I have food for you," he called to her, a hopeful note entering his voice. There was no response from the bed, not even a shifting of covers.

Francis let out an irritated sigh. "Michelle, you need to eat something." Still, there was no response. Francis scowled, stomped over to his bed, and yanked the covers off of the girl.

Michelle was curled into a tight ball under the sheets, unmoving. Her eyes were closed as if she was sleeping, although Francis knew that she wasn't. In the week that she had been with him, Francis hadn't seen Michelle sleep once.

He gripped her shoulder and shook her hard. "Get up, Michelle. I'm going to make sure you eat."

Michelle's eyes opened as Francis shook her but she did not look at him. She glared at the wall. Francis sighed in irritation and forced her into a sitting position.

"What do you want?" Michelle asked coldly. The chain around her ankle clinked as Francis forcibly moved her.

Francis took out a key and unlocked her leg from the bed. "You have to eat something. I refuse to let you starve yourself." He gripped her arm and pulled her off of his bed.

Michelle was a little unsteady on her feet but made it over to the table without a problem. She sat down in a chair and examined the bowl of stew in front of her.

"It is very good," Francis urged her on. "It is not poisoned, or anything, ma cheri. Go ahead and eat."

Michelle raised the bowl to her lips and tentatively took a sip. Her nose wrinkled for a moment and she stared down at the bowl.

"What is it?" she asked, studying the broth suspiciously. She dipped a finger into the bowl and examined the wetness on the tip of it.

"Stew," Francis told her. "It has vegetables in it."

"Vegetables?" Michelle asked.

"You've never had any?" Francis asked, amazed. Then again, until recently Michelle was living on an island all alone. She might never have had any food apart from what could be found on that island.

Michelle didn't answer, but took a few more sips before pushing her bowl away. "It tastes strange," she declared.

"You have to eat something," Francis told her.

"I don't want it," Michelle protested.

"Then what do you want?" Francis asked. He could feel the signs of a headache coming on. "I'm going to make you eat something."

Michelle bit her lip, obviously not wanting to lower herself and ask for food. Yet, her hunger won out in the end. "I like fruit," she said grudgingly.

Francis nodded and stood up, holding out his hand. "I'll take you to the kitchen and you can choose some," he suggested. Finally, he would get this stubborn girl to eat.

Michelle glared at his outstretched hand before getting up and flouncing past him. Or trying to. Francis grabbed her hand as she passed him.

"I can walk by myself!" Michelle snapped, trying to wrench her hand away from the Frenchman.

"I would much rather hold your hand, darling," Francis replied with a teasing grin. Michelle glared at him but did not protest further.

Michelle squinted and shielded her eyes with her free hand as the bright noon sunlight on deck hit her eyes. She observed her surroundings with apparent interest. Francis smiled and led her to the kitchen.

The ship's cook was busy when they entered. He didn't acknowledge his captain as he ran about the kitchen, collecting ingredients. Gilbert was also in there, apparently trying to sneak food from among the supplies. He stuffed a carrot into his mouth unashamedly when he saw Francis looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"The girl lives!" he crowed when he had swallowed. Francis felt Michelle tense beside him as Gilbert sauntered over to them. He shot her a wide grin, showing flashing white teeth. "Out on a walk?" he said. "We were beginning to think that you had died. But then, Francis was always irritated with you so I guess you must have been giving him some kind of trouble." He smirked at Francis. "Keep it up. He needs a little more trouble in his life."

Francis smiled politely at Gilbert. "You are all the trouble I can handle, mon ami," he said sweetly. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"I had to take a break from the sun," the albino explained. "I was beginning to burn." Gilbert burned badly when exposed to sunlight, a credit to his skin tone. He always had to wear long sleeves and big hats on the deck to shield his sensitive skin from the sun.

"I see. Well, kindly refrain from diminishing our food supply while you recover," Francis said cheerfully before leading Michelle over to the crates of fruit in the corner. Gilbert left to resume his duties on deck.

Francis sighed as he saw the dismal state the fruit supply was in. He refused to serve rotten food to his crew; much of the fruit was thrown out before they could eat it. There were a few items left, most of which were the last of the stock that they had gotten from Michelle's island. She would be able to recognize them at least.

"Choose some," Francis told her. Michelle hesitated before choosing a mango and what looked like a kiwi from the crate. She was obviously torn about taking food from her captors. She turned back around once she had made her choices, not meeting Francis' eyes. At that moment, her blue eyes locked on something behind Francis. When Francis turned to see what she was looking at, he saw the cook carefully retrieving a lobster from the tank in the corner. So, they were having shellfish tonight, it seemed.

Michelle watched as the man carried the lobster over to the pot of boiling water on the stove. He removed the lid and tossed the crustacean into the pot.

Michelle screamed. Her hand shot out towards the stove and she dropped the fruit in her arms. She continued screaming, scaring both the cook and Francis half to death. Francis had a hold on her arm, and she tried to fight her way out of his grasp.

"Stop! Stop!" she cried, reaching for the pot. "Let him out!"

Gilbert came dashing back into the kitchen. "What is wrong?" he yelled, staring at Michelle.

"Please! You're killing him!" Michelle was sobbing now, her eyes wide with desperation and terror. "Let him out! Can't you hear him screaming in pain?"

"I can hear _you_ screaming," Gilbert snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The albino stormed over to the pot and yanked the lid off. "It's just a lobster," he growled. "Stop making a fuss, woman!"

"No!" Michelle shrieked, freeing herself from Francis and making a dash for the stove. Gilbert caught her waist before she could stick her hand into the boiling pot. "Let him out!" she begged.

Francis grabbed a spatula and quickly fished the fortunate shellfish out of the pot. Michelle immediately snatched it off of the floor and cradled it in her arms.

"Shh! It's okay now." Michelle was actually talking to the thing. "I won't let him hurt you again." She stroked her hand along the length of the crustacean's body.

_Lucky bastard!_ Francis thought, glaring at the lobster. "Michelle, it might pinch you. I would let it down."

"He won't pinch me; I am his friend," was the distracted reply. Michelle continued cooing to the lobster while Francis stared in utter disbelief. The woman really thought that she could speak with fish. He forced the image of Michelle with a tail out of his mind and stepped to her side.

"Let that thing go, ma cheri," he said, reaching for the lobster. Before he had a chance to touch it, the little bastard's pincer closed around a finger. Francis yelped in pain and set about freeing his finger while Gilbert howled with laughter behind him.

"He does not like you," Michelle said when Francis had freed his poor finger. "You are not his friend. He will pinch you."

"I can see that!" Francis snapped. Still laughing, Gilbert came forward and examined the hurt finger.

"The crazy woman thinks that she can talk to fish!" The cook had finally recovered from his fright. He was staring at Michelle in disbelief.

"Well, I can see how it likes her better. She isn't trying to eat it," Gil chuckled.

The cook shook his head as he continued staring at Michelle. On the stove, the pot was boiling over, but was going unnoticed.

Michelle suddenly turned to Francis. "Free those captives!" she snapped, pointing to the tank full of shellfish.

"I cannot do that," Francis said. "That is our dinner, Michelle."

"The way you kill them is torture!" Michelle snapped. "How could you not hear this poor thing screaming in pain?"

"That is how we have to cook them," Francis responded.

"You are a monster," Michelle whispered. Tears filled her blue eyes and her tanned skin had gone ashen.

Francis just stared at her in disbelief. He did not know what to say to her.

"Well, find us another food source and I'll let them go," Gilbert answered for Francis. The albino still seemed highly amused at the situation.

Michelle looked around the kitchen thoughtfully, still cradling that blasted lobster. Francis' finger gave another throb. He could have sworn its beady little eyes were smirking at him. "You can eat more of that awful stew," Michelle suggested.

"Oi!" the cook yelled. "I spent hours on that stew!"

"Forgive her," Francis tried to soothe the man. "She has strange tastes."

Before the cook could respond, the door to the kitchen burst open. "Captain!" a crew member gasped, out of breath. "Captain! A British ship has been spotted on the horizon, sir!"

"Oh, please tell me it's Kirkland!" Gilbert said gleefully. The albino's red eyes sparkled with excitement. "It's been too long since I picked on him!"

Francis exchanged grins with Gilbert before pulling Michelle outside.

"Wait! What about the shellfish?" Michelle protested.

"You can let that one go and I'll deal with the rest later," Francis said. He passed her off to Gilbert with a warning to keep a hold on her and took out his telescope, scanning the horizon.

He spotted the ship soon enough. It was a very familiar, well made vessel, flying a small British flag. Francis could just make out its name: _The Emerald Mist._

Francis lowered his spyglass and gave a long, dramatic sigh, "It is little Arthur again," he informed Gilbert. "Whatever shall we do?"

"Please?" Gilbert begged. "I really want to mess with the little brat!"

Francis sighed. "That may be, but I most certainly do not want to poke fun at him." Francis paused before breaking out into laughter. "What am I saying? Of course I would not miss this opportunity to ruin a certain Englishman's day!" He made a wide, sweeping gesture in the direction of the enemy ship. "Well, friends, shall we attack?"

A loud cheer came from his crew, many of whom were smirking. Gilbert crowed his delight and let go of Michelle's arm to run off and start giving orders.

Michelle was frowning in the direction of Arthur's ship. "What is going on?" she asked. Francis noticed that she still had the lobster.

"Throw that thing overboard, ma cheri," he advised. "We are about to go annoy a Briton. This is going to be very fun!"

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**Arthur is making an appearance next chapter! Sorry for the long space between updates. I had writer's block, but it is gone now thanks to Angel Longstring. Hopefully the next chapter will be out faster.**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

They caught up to the _Mist_ within an hour. Francis wasn't even trying to sneak up on them. It wasn't like the little English pirate could do anything to stop their approach. As they drew up alongside the _Mist,_ Francis caught a glimpse of a bright red coat and grinned.

Arthur was shouting orders mixed with profanities as he glared at Francis from across the water. Even at this distance, Francis could clearly see his brilliant emerald eyes trained on him with dislike. Beside Francis, Gilbert chortled in delight.

"Hey there, brat!" Gilbert yelled. "Not even fighting back, I see. Finally realized how weak you are compared to us?"

"Bastard! I can kick your ass any day!" Arthur roared back, taking out a pistol.

Francis rolled his eyes, grabbed a rope, and swung over to Arthur's ship. He didn't want to start a fight with Arthur, just poke fun at him. He landed with a thud right in front of the shorter Briton.

Arthur's pistol was trained on Francis. "What the hell do you want, frog?" he snarled.

"I could not resist dropping in for a visit with my favorite little Briton," Francis cooed, attempting to grab Arthur around the waist. Arthur easily sidestepped him without lowering his pistol. "You are much too fun to tease, mon ami."

The crews had connected the two ships with a gangplank and were crossing over onto the _Mist_. The respective crews were watching each other warily, fingering their weapons. They may not be fighting yet, but they had fought too many times in the past to trust each other. Francis could practically feel the sparks racing in the air as the two crews glared at each other. Francis spotted Michelle as she crossed over with Gilbert, who was holding tightly to her arm.

"If you have nothing better to do than to irritate me then go home," Arthur snapped.

"Not a chance," Gilbert crowed, joining Francis. Michelle tried to pull her arm away from the Prussian, and Gilbert handed her off to Francis.

"What's a woman doing on your ship?" Arthur snapped. "They bring bad luck." The Brit grinned. "You would be stupid enough to do that, frog. I hope your ship sinks and you all die!"

"You're as pleasant as ever," Francis sighed. "And we are not going to attack you unless you attack us first, so kindly lower your gun, mon cher."

Arthur scowled. "I don't trust you."

"If we were going to attack we would have done so a long time ago," Gilbert told him. "The wind was in our favor; you couldn't have stopped us."

Arthur glared at them both before hesitantly lowering his pistol.

"Excellent," Francis crowed. "Is there someplace we can talk? It has been so long."

Arthur whirled around and stormed across the deck to his cabin with Francis following close behind. Francis shook his head at Gilbert when the Prussian tried to follow.

"Stay with the crew," Francis ordered. "Make sure no one starts a fight." Gilbert nodded reluctantly in disappointment and headed back to Francis' crew while Francis and Michelle followed Arthur into his cabin.

The Englishman's cabin was fairly spacious. He had a desk, table, and couch spaced throughout the room and a large bed tucked into a corner. His walls were covered with various maps and charts. They also covered his desk.

"What did you want?" Arthur asked irritably.

Before Francis could answer, the door opened again. A young man entered the room. He was short with long black hair pulled into a ponytail. Disinterested golden eyes surveyed the visitors and stopped on Michelle. The man halted, amber eyes widening before looking away.

"Yao," Arthur called. The man started and walked over to him. Arthur smirked as he caught Yao around the waist.

"And who is this?" Francis asked.

"Like him?" Arthur chuckled. "I picked him up in China a few months ago. Pretty thing, isn't he?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "Poor thing," he shot back. That was when he noticed that Michelle's eyes were fixated on Yao. She was staring intently at him. And Yao seemed to be avoiding looking at her. His eyes were fixed on a point over Arthur's shoulder, and his whole body was tense. Francis looked back and forth between them. Interesting… Did they know each other?

Arthur lifted Yao's ponytail to his lips before pushing him down onto the bed behind him. "I'll ask you again," he said to Francis, "what business do you have bothering me?"

"Hmm. I honestly could not resist, mon cher," Francis told him. "You are simply too fun to tease."

Before Arthur could respond to that, Michelle stepped out from behind Francis. Her blue eyes were fixed on Yao. "Are you a captive here?" she asked quietly.

Yao turned towards her and studied her for a moment. "I'm not here because I want to be," he replied in a low voice.

"Yao owes me a debt," Arthur chuckled. He ran his fingers through Yao's black hair and pulled the tie from it, freeing it from the ponytail.

Yao's face darkened. "I paid that debt off long ago," he said, snatching the hair tie back and pulling his hair back into a ponytail again.

"Do you want to come with us?" Michelle asked him.

"Michelle," Francis warned.

"Well, I can't just leave him here," Michelle retorted. "If he wants to leave, I'm taking him with me."

Arthur was staring at Michelle, amused. "You and what army?"

Michelle turned to Francis. "You'll help," she said. It wasn't an order, but it was said as if Francis was obligated to help the man.

Francis sighed. "But, I don't want to tease little Arthur _that _hard." He paused for a moment and then laughed. "I am not a very good liar at all," he said. He turned back to Arthur. "Are you going to make this fun for me, mon cher? Or are you just going to give him up?"

Arthur's face was steadily turning red while Yao looked amused. "Get off my ship, frog," Arthur snarled, finally finding his voice. He put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Yao stood smoothly to his feet. Arthur turned around and grabbed his arm. "You sit back down," he ordered. "You aren't going anywh-!"

Yao cut him off with a swift kiss on the mouth. "Sorry, _love,_" he said when he pulled back. In his hand, he was holding Arthur's gun that he had taken from the Brit while they kissed. "But I'm not taking orders from you."

Arthur looked stunned. "Yao," he said quietly, holding up a hand.

Yao backed up until he was standing beside Michelle. "Sorry, Arthur, but I'm leaving. Don't make me shoot you," Yao said firmly.

"Stop," Arthur said. The Briton sounded close to begging. Yao shook his head, his golden eyes hard.

"Well then," Francis said brightly. "He has made his choice." Francis turned to Michelle. "What say you to leaving this stuffy old Briton behind, ma cheri?"

"I will kill you!" Arthur snapped, glaring at Francis. "Yao, come back here!"

Michelle took a hold of Yao's arm and pulled him towards the door to the cabin. Yao suddenly froze and turned his ear to the door.

"It sounds as if they are fighting out there," he said.

Francis listened carefully. Sounds of angry shouting came from the direction of the deck. He sighed. "Lovely," he growled. "Gilbert could not resist starting a fight." Francis could feel the beginnings of a headache tugging at the corner of his mind.

"Those wankers!" Arthur snapped. He cast one last glance back at Yao, his emerald eyes sparking, before storming out of the cabin. "Let's go, frog!"

Francis took Michelle's hand and pulled her after him. She clutched tightly to Yao's arm, dragging him behind her as they followed Arthur to the deck. The sounds of fighting grew louder as they made their way up the stairs. The sound of a gunshot suddenly broke through the yells. Everything went deathly silent.

Arthur had grabbed a gun from one of Francis' men and fired it over their heads. The crews had stopped fighting at the appearance of the Briton.

"What is going on out here?" Arthur snarled.

Francis looked around for Gilbert and sure enough spotted him facing off with Arthur's first mate at the center of a ring of men. Francis scowled darkly, although Gilbert was unaffected.

"You really do want me to kill you, don't you, German?" Arthur snarled, pointing the gun at him. Francis' crewmember moved to grab his gun, but Francis put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Who knew what Arthur would do when he was mad?

Gilbert glared at the Brit. "I am _Prussian!"_ he snarled.

Arthur gave him a tight smile. "German," he said. "If you want to keep your head intact, I suggest you step away from my first mate. And make haste to your own ship. Do it now."

"Do it, Gil," Francis called out.

At the sound of Francis' voice, Gilbert reluctantly stepped away from the other man. "He started it," Gilbert growled.

"I do not give a damn," Arthur said coldly. He turned to Francis, training his gun on him. Francis pushed Michelle behind his back protectively. "Get off of my ship," Arthur snarled. "Get off before I decide to kill all of you."

"And how do you expect to do that, mon cher?" Francis asked.

"My crew is already prepared to fire our cannons if I give the order," Arthur told him. "We would be able to sink your ship before any of yours could make it across. With nowhere to go, your crew would be easy to pick off." He smiled tightly at Francis, eyes shining with dislike.

Francis sighed. "Fine. It was pleasant seeing you too, mon cher."

"Leave," Arthur warned.

Francis gave the order for his crew to retreat. He began pulling Michelle towards the boardwalk. Before Yao could move, Arthur's arm shot out and grabbed his ponytail. The Chinese gave a cry as Arthur pulled him back.

"Didn't I tell you that you are not going anywhere?" Arthur snarled, wrapping an arm around him to prevent him from escaping.

Michelle tried to break out of Francis' grasp to get back to Yao, but Francis pulled her along. "Don't," he warned.

Michelle glared at him and cast another glance at Yao before reluctantly allowing Francis to pull her away. Yao stayed with Arthur, who had a tight hold on him. The blank, uninterested look returned to his face. He wasn't struggling.

"You don't understand," Michelle whispered. "I cannot leave him here! We must go back for him."

"I don't feel like getting shot by an enraged Briton, ma cheri," Francis told her as they crossed to Francis' ship. He did look back once more at the Chinese, though. Just in time to see Yao crack the butt of the gun against Arthur's head.

Francis' eyes widened as Arthur dropped like a rock, unconscious. He watched interestedly as the scene unfolded. Several of Arthur's pirates, including his first mate, shot forward towards Yao, who was quickly backing up towards Francis' ship. He pointed the gun at each of them in turn before saying, "I will shoot the man who comes after me. Do not think that I won't." A hard, cold edge was in his voice. The men backed away from him slowly. Yao quickly crossed over to Francis' ship without lowering his gun.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Well done," he said. "That took guts."

Yao let out a breath as they started to pull away from the other ship. Francis' men were manning the cannons, ready to retaliate if the _Mist_ opened fire on them. "I can't believe that worked," Yao said finally. "The gun wasn't even loaded!"

Francis chuckled. "How did you know the gun wasn't loaded?" he asked.

Yao suddenly turned the weapon on him and pulled the trigger. Francis yelped and jumped back before realizing that the gun hadn't fired. Yao watched him with a grin on his face.

"See? It isn't loaded," Yao chuckled. "Besides, I heard Arthur mention that it wasn't as you were boarding the _Mist."_

Francis waved off Gilbert, who had drawn his own pistol at the threat to his captain's safety and was aiming it at Yao. "I see," he said, trying to keep his voice even despite the scare. A musical laugh came from his right, and he turned to see Michelle watching them, her slender brown hand covering her mouth. Francis could feel his lips turning up into a smile as well as he watched her.

"Anyway, where can I stay?" Yao asked after a few moments of watching Francis smile at Michelle. "Also, I can cook, so I will not be completely useless."

Francis turned to face the Chinese again. "You can sleep with the rest of the crew. I'll talk to my cook and have him take you on," he told the man. He paused before asking, "By the way, what was your relationship to Arthur? He was certainly adverse to see you go."

Yao's expression did not change, although a dark shadow seemed to weigh on his brow. "That is none of your business," he said in a neutral tone. "I was paying off a debt. You can drop me off at the next port."

"Very well," Francis sighed. He motioned to Gilbert. "Introduce him to our cook and have him show him around the kitchen," he ordered. "And tell someone to set up a hammock for him below deck with everyone else."

"Fine," Gilbert said. He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen, and Yao followed him as they headed away from Francis and Michelle.

Once they were out of earshot, Francis took Michelle's hand. "You knew him?" Francis asked her, nodding after Yao.

Michelle shook her head, a little too quickly. "I do not," she insisted.

"Why were you so insistent that he come with us?" Francis asked her. "You seemed familiar with him from what I saw."

Michelle shook her head again. "I do not like seeing someone else held captive," she said. "It is enough being a captive myself." She wasn't meeting his eyes.

"What can I do for you?" Francis asked her after a moment. "What can I do to make you more comfortable here?"

Michelle raised a thin eyebrow, as if asking if Francis was serious. "You do not give me enough water," she said after a moment. "And I really do not like being chained to your bed. I want to be able to walk around."

Francis nodded. "Fair enough. I will see what I can do about the water. We have to ration it, you know, so that it will last."

Michelle nodded a little reluctantly. Francis noticed that she hadn't tried to pull her hand out of his yet. This fact pleased him immensely. Francis tugged her back in the direction of his cabin. "I need to check something," he said. He waved over Gilbert, who had reappeared after leaving Yao in the kitchen.

The trio entered Francis' cabin. Francis reluctantly let go of Michelle's hand and motioned Gilbert over to his desk. "That little excursion didn't put us too far off course, did it?" he asked.

"It shouldn't have," Gilbert replied. The albino raised a thin, almost transparent eyebrow at the tangle of blankets and pillows adorning one corner of the cabin: Francis' new bed, since Michelle was occupying his. "We should still be straight. It didn't take too much time, and Kirkland didn't even try to run, so we didn't have to pursue him." Gilbert let out a sigh to show his disappointment. "He was being really boring this time."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he starts chasing after _us,"_ Francis said.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Gilbert said. "Why is that Asian coming with us? Who is he?"

"It seemed like he was Arthur's toy, but Arthur actually seemed to care about him," Francis explained. "He was upset when Yao told him he was coming with us."

"So we can expect the little twerp again?" Gilbert asked gleefully.

"It would not surprise me," Francis said.

"Why did you agree to let him come along?" Gilbert asked. "And why did he want to come with us?"

"Does it take much to want to get away from little Arthur?" Francis asked. Gilbert snickered in response. "And Michelle is the one who decided that he would come with us. She did not seem to want him to remain a captive."

"Is that so?" Gilbert asked, glancing over at Michelle, who was sitting on the bed, listening to the two men talk.

"Besides, I couldn't resist being a little mean to the Briton," Francis laughed. "He is fun to provoke."

"Anyway, we should still make port in Singapore tomorrow if we keep on our course," Gilbert said. "We'd probably dock sometime in the afternoon."

"Yes, and Antonio should arrive the day after us," Francis agreed. The Spaniard had fallen behind when he stopped at another small island. They had agreed to meet in Singapore when they both arrived.

"Yeah," Gilbert said, plopping himself down in Francis' chair. "In the meantime, it looks like smooth sailing."

"Indeed, but that does not give you a reason to laze in here, mon ami," Francis laughed.

"Kesesese! You're right! I have my own cabin to do that in!" Gilbert crowed.

Francis pointed firmly to the door, and Gilbert laughed as he left the room.

"We will be at our destination tomorrow?" Michelle asked when Gilbert had left.

Francis nodded. "We'll stop in Singapore for a time and wait for our friend. We can restock the ship and trade in goods that we…obtained," Francis hedged.

"That you stole," Michelle corrected.

"I'm a pirate," Francis chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.

"I am very much aware," Michelle retorted.

Francis walked over to her and took her face between his hands. He placed a quick kiss on her warm forehead. "I'm not going to chain you anymore," he told her after a moment. I'll let you walk free on the ship on one condition: you have to stay near me at all times. Are we clear?" Michelle nodded after a moment. "Good," Francis said. "I'm going to get you some more water, if you would like to go with me? And I realized that I never gave you a proper tour of the ship."

Michelle let out a small smile. "I will go with you," she said. She took Francis' outstretched arm and allowed him to pull her from the cabin.

* * *

Michelle seemed to really like the ship. She acted like she had never been on one before. She also seemed to like gazing out at the ocean.

Francis always made sure to keep her in his sights as he went about his errands. Her bare feet padding across the deck accompanied him wherever he went.

So he immediately knew that something was wrong when he realized that he no longer hear the pad of her feet behind him.

Francis stopped in his journey up the stairs to the second level. He glanced over his shoulder for the girl, but could not see her. "Michelle?" he called.

"Don't you dare touch me!"

Francis made a bolt over to where he had heard the voice. Michelle was backed up against the wall as three larger men loomed over her.

"She's really demanding for the captain's plaything," one chuckled. Another reached out to graze her hip, but Michelle slapped his hand away.

"I said, do not touch me!" she snarled.

"Why don't you men listen to the lady," Francis said in a chilling voice. All three men whirled around at the sound of their captain's voice. "Kindly step away from her before I plaster your skulls against that wall. I do not want to dirty my lady's lovely dress with your filthy blood."

All three men backed away from Michelle and fled before Francis could punish them. He stared after them.

"I'll deal with them later," he growled before turning back to Michelle. "Are you all right?" he asked her in a gentle voice.

Michelle's dark skin had a flush rising in it. "I'm fine," she said. "Those people cornered me."

"I apologize for them," Francis told her. He held out his arm for her to take. "Would you like me to deal with them now?"

"Why are you asking me?" Michelle asked in return.

"They wronged you," Francis responded.

"I'm fine," Michelle insisted.

Francis nodded reluctantly but made a mental note to get Gilbert to deal with them. The Prussian would enjoy that. "Well, we should be making port in an hour or so. I thought that I would bring you up to the second deck. You can see land through the telescope."

"We are almost to land?" Michelle asked. A note of excitement made its way into her voice, although it was obvious that she was trying to hide it.

"Yes. Come and I will show it to you," Francis insisted. He led her across the deck.

Sure enough, a little over an hour later they were making port. Francis paid the dock master and left the ship with Michelle, who was bouncing from one foot to the other, obviously excited to get back on land. Her feet were still bare; Francis had never seen her in shoes. She didn't seem to need them or had no use for them.

Francis finally held his arm out to her and led her down the gangplank to the dock. Michelle practically pulled him along as they made their way down the dock. Gilbert walked beside Francis; they were heading to a local tavern, called the _Briny Seahorse._ Francis had always liked that tavern and made it a point to always stop there when they came to this particular port town. One of the good things about this town was that it was open to pirates; no one ran for the police when they saw Francis.

When they reached the end of the dock, the rest of Francis' crew dispersed to do as they liked. They had left the three men who had bothered Michelle to guard the ship; they would not be allowed to enjoy themselves in the city this time. A light punishment, but then again they had not caused any real harm to the girl.

Yao also ran off into the city. "I thank you for getting me away from Arthur," he said, bowing to Francis and Michelle. "I wish you well on your journeys."

"I wish you well also," Francis said amiably. "I hope that we may meet again; your cooking was extraordinary."

Yao nodded and cast one last, long look at Michelle before disappearing into the crowd. In seconds, Francis lost sight of him.

"Well, mon ami, we are heading to the _Seahorse, _non?" Francis said, turning to Gilbert.

"Yeah," Gilbert agreed.

Before they could go anywhere, Michelle tugged insistently at Francis' arm. She was motioning towards the water. Francis frowned, but led her to the waves.

A feeling of pure bliss spread over Michelle's face as her feet made contact with the water. She held her arms extended a little from her sides and just stood there, breathing in the air and feeling the waves against her feet.

She stood like that for five minutes, without moving, drawing uneasy stares from the people working on the docks. Gilbert tapped his foot impatiently and cast irritated glances at Francis. Even Francis was a little uneasy as he watched her.

Then, without warning, Michelle started to sing. The song had no words, just Michelle's voice rising and falling like the waves. Francis felt himself getting lost in the haunting melody as he listened to her, and his eyes fixated on her. The melody was so beautiful…

"Francis!" Gilbert said, snapping Francis out of his fixation. Michelle had stopped singing, but was humming the same melody. Everything was silent but for the waves and Michelle's voice. Francis noticed with a start that even the birds had gone silent. Several were sitting on the ropes along the dock, not moving or making noise. All of them were looking at Michelle, as if enraptured by her voice. Some of the people working were staring, dumbstruck, at the young woman.

Getting an uneasy feeling, Francis tapped Michelle on the shoulder and tugged on her arm, trying to get her out of the water. She turned around and looked Francis in the eye. Francis froze.

Michelle's pupils were no longer round, like a human's, but slitted, like a cat's. But, just as soon as he realized it, he blinked, and her eyes were back to normal, making him wonder if he had imagined it.

"Will we come back to the water tonight?" Michelle asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"Yes," Francis said without thinking. "I'll bring you back. But, we have things to do for now." He looked into her eyes one more time, comforting himself with the sight of her rounded pupils, before pulling her from the water.

The trio set out for the _Briny Seahorse._ Francis could not shake his feeling of uneasiness as he led the way away from the docks and into the city. What human had a voice that made even the birds stop their chatter to listen? And he could not shake the image of Michelle's eyes, slitted like a cat. Inhuman.

* * *

**Again, I want to thank my friend Angel Longstring for sticking by me and encouraging me to keep on writing this fic. I love you, Mei! This chapter, and the next few, is for you. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait.**

**In the next chapter, I will be introducing an OC. Guinevere is Angel Longstring's pirate Wales OC. She is **_**not**_** a Mary-Sue; she is very well done and accurate. I think that you will like her, so give her a chance before you freak out. Angel Longstring is doing a side story to this fic, explaining a detail of the plot that is coming up next chapter. It will be up sometime soon hopefully.**

**I am also going to write a side story to this fic. It will be explaining in more detail Arthur and Yao's relationship and how Yao came to be on Arthur's ship. No rape is involved, nor is kidnapping. I don't know when I will have it out, but I'm definitely going to write it as soon as I can.**

**Please leave a review for me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Guinevere is my friend Angel Longstring's pirate Wales character. She is an OC, but is **_**not**_** a Mary-Sue. Brittany is, well, Brittany. She is another OC, but again is not a Mary-Sue, I promise. Please do not freak out.**

* * *

The _Briny Seahorse_ tavern was lively as Francis pulled Michelle through the doors. Michelle winced at the smell of sweat and alcohol inside the full room. People were everywhere; sitting at tables, at the bar, or standing drinking and talking with their fellows. Most everyone was nursing a tankard. Gilbert entered behind them.

"You know what to do," Francis told him. "Gather news and report back to me."

Gilbert flapped his hand at Francis to show that he got the message and headed straight to the bar. Francis rolled his eyes at his friend's predictability and led Michelle further into the room, keeping a tight grip on her so that they would not get separated. He stopped in front of a table containing three sailors nursing drinks.

"Good evening," he said, gaining their attention."Might I and my lovely lady friend join you?"

"What do you want?" one of the sailors asked.

"News," Francis responded, sitting down without being asked to and pulling Michelle onto his lap. Michelle tensed and opened her mouth to protest, but Francis pinched her arm, a warning to keep quiet. Thankfully, Michelle got the point because she kept quiet, although her body remained tense.

"You want news?" the first sailor repeated. "What kind of news?"

"Just news. What is happening in this part of the world?" Francis hooked his chin over Michelle's shoulder.

"Well, the English navy is being a pain in the arse," a second man laughed. "Quite literally."

"Jenkins got shot in the ass," the first man guffawed, nodding towards the second man.

"We just got into port, same as you," the third man said disinterestedly. He took a swig from his mug. "We know just about as much as you do."

"I see," Francis said. "Do you know of anyone who does know anything?"

"The girl over there at the bar might be able to tell you something," Jenkins responded. He pointed and Francis followed his gaze. "The blonde girl."

The girl he was talking about had waist-length pale blonde hair. She was sitting on a bar stool beside another girl, who looked to be a teenager. The second girl was obviously drunk, with long, wavy strawberry blonde hair. She was nursing a big tankard and talking loudly with the barman. The first girl sat quietly beside her, although she was not drinking.

Francis thanked the men before bidding farewell and making his way over to the bar, keeping a grip on Michelle's hand. He slid into the vacant seat next to the blonde. "Hello, there."

The girl glanced over her shoulder disinterestedly. "Hello," She said simply before turning away.

Francis pulled Michelle into his lap again. "Why are you not drinking? May I buy you one?"

The girl cast another look his way. "It's not good for me to drink," she said in the same disinterested fashion. Her accent was vaguely British. She flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder dismissively.

"I see. Well, I would like one." Francis signaled the barkeep and ordered wine. The man nodded and hurried off to pour it. "You should try this wine," he said amiably when the man brought him his drink. "It is French; the very best!"

"Tastes like frog," the girl rolled her eyes and made to turn away.

"What is your name?" Francis asked.

"Look, wino, I'm not interested," the girl snapped. The teenager turned to her.

"Who's that, Guin?" the girl asked with a similar accent. "Looks like a frog."

"He is," Guin responded.

"Oh. Idiot," the teenager said before turning away.

"I was told that you might have information," Francis told her.

Guin cast an irritated look his way. "Do I look like I know anythin'?" she snapped.

"Those three fine sailors over there told me that you might know what's going on," Francis said. "I've been at sea for weeks."

"I don't know anything outside of this city," Guin said. "I'm…waiting for someone here. My crew and I haven't left in a while."

"Oh. I see," Francis said with disappointment in his voice. "Well, I'm Francis, and this lovely lady is Michelle, if you were wondering."

"I wasn't," Guin said, although her eyes glanced over them again and focused on Michelle. The blonde cracked a grin. "She doesn' look too happy about her seating arrangement," Guin said. She hopped out of her chair. Standing up, Guin barely cleared five feet. "You can have my seat," she told Michelle. "Brittany! Move down a seat."

"Why?" the teenager said. She had grey eyes and a face full of freckles. "I'm comfy, Guin!"

"Go on!" Guin said. Grumbling, the girl got out of her chair and hopped onto the next stool with a little help from Guin.

Michelle smiled at Guin and wiggled off of Francis' lap. "Thank you," she said, taking Guin's seat and sitting with her back to Francis.

Guin hopped into her new seat and grinned at Michelle. "No problem," she said. "You didn' look very comfortable."

"I wasn't," Michelle responded.

Francis pouted. "You wound me, darling," he told Michelle.

"Did you expect me to lie?" Michelle asked.

Guin laughed. "I'm Guinevere, but you can call me Guin if you would like," she said amiably.

"Michelle," Michelle replied. She stared at Guinevere's outstretched hand, a slightly confused look on her face, and Guin took Michelle's hand and shook it gently.

"Where do you come from?" Guin asked Michelle.

"An island," Michelle replied vaguely.

Guin nodded. "And how did you come to be with the frog?"

"He took me from the island," Michelle shrugged. "My…friends…were away at the time."

"You were alone!" Francis snapped.

"Exactly," Michelle said, as if speaking to a child. "My friends were away."

Guin laughed while Francis glared at her. He motioned to the bartender for another glass of wine.

"He hasn't hurt you, has he?" Guin was asking. She shot a threatening glare at Francis. "Do you want me to kill him for you, love?"

Michelle giggled. "No, he has not hurt me," she said. She paused for a moment. "But, he does the most horrendous things to shellfish! He boils them alive! And then he claims not to hear their screams of agony! It is awful!"

Guin just stared at her for a long moment before saying, "That does sound horrible."

"It is! He holds them captive and then kills them in the most awful fashion!"

Francis rolled his eyes and took a long swig of wine. The conversation continued, with Guin questioning Michelle. Brittany was drinking herself under the table on the other side of Guin. Michelle hadn't even acknowledged Francis for a good half hour. He pouted. This was boring!

Getting an idea, he leaned around Michelle and gave Guin a flirtatious smile. "So, you have asked Michelle all of these questions, but you have failed to let us ask one. Where are you from?"

"Wales," Guin said distractedly before turning back to Michelle.

"Really? I did not know that such beautiful women could come from Britain," Francis said, trying to gain her attention again.

He succeeded. Guinevere turned to him slowly. "I am not English," she said in a deadly voice, shooting him a nasty glare. "I am from Wales. Do not confuse the two."

"That's still in the British Isles," Francis pointed out.

"Shut up, frog!" Guinevere roared. "Are you asking to be punched? Sod off!"

Francis backed off quickly. "My sincere apologies, ma cheri," he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I meant no offense!"

Guin's hackles lowered slightly and she turned back to Michelle. Francis huffed at being ignored again. He would have to try another approach.

Francis slid out of his stool and had to grab the counter to steady himself. He was already more than a little tipsy from the wine as he sauntered over to Guinevere. She shot him a wary glare.

"What do you want, frog?" she snapped.

Francis placed his half full glass of wine on the counter in front of her. "You should really try some," he purred. He glanced over his shoulder at Michelle. Michelle was shooting him a look, scowl on her face. Francis smiled at her and attempted to put an arm around Guinevere's shoulders.

Guin jerked out of his range. "Don't touch me, frog!" she snarled.

Francis pouted. "Oh, come on, dear," he said in a low voice. "I guarantee that you'll like it."

Guin slid out of her seat and faced Francis. "Do not put your hands on me," she warned.

Francis laughed. "Are you shy, darling?" he asked. "How cute!" he attempted to caress her cheek.

Guinevere's fist shot out and punched Francis square in the gut. Francis' breath flew out of him and he doubled over in pain. Guin chopped him on the back of the head, knocking him out. Francis slumped to the floor, defeated.

Michelle looked on in shock. "Wow," she said simply before bursting into laughter. Another voice joined hers as Gilbert walked up to them, unsteady from laughing at his friend's expense.

"W-What h-happened?" Gilbert wheezed, clutching his shaking side.

"I gave him fair warning," Guinevere said simply.

Gilbert held out his hand and shook Guin's. "Tough girl!" he said. "Good job!" He glanced down at Francis before looking at Michelle. "Stay here," he chuckled. "I'll go get the boys to carry him."

"We'll help out," said a man. Two men came up to them and helped lift Francis in the air.

"Hold on!" Gilbert said. He reached in Francis coat pocket and pulled out his coin purse. "He hasn't paid his bill yet, right?" Gilbert asked the bartender. The man shook his head and Gilbert quickly paid the man while the other two picked up the unconscious Frenchman. Gilbert motioned to Michelle and she got off her seat before glancing back at Guin.

"Brittany, stay right here," Guinevere said sternly to the blonde. "I'll come back to get you."

Brittany gave an uneven, drunken salute before knocking back yet another shot.

"Don't let her drink too much," Guin told the bartender before following Michelle and Gilbert out into the night.

"You don't have to come," Gilbert told Guinevere.

"I'm coming to see off the lass," Guin explained. Gilbert shrugged and pointed out the right ship to the men carrying Francis. Guinevere pulled Michelle aside before Michelle had a chance to board.

"May I speak to you a moment, dearie?" Guin asked. Michelle nodded and allowed Guin to pull her off to the side, into the shadows of a nearby building. Michelle waited patiently, but Guinevere did not say anything for a moment. The strong willed young woman seemed a little… unsure. Finally, Guin seemed to gather her courage and turned to look Michelle in the eye.

"Do you know Lili Zwingli?" Guinevere asked in a low voice.

Michelle's whole body froze as she stared at the shorter woman. It took her a moment to get over her shock. "How do _you_ know Lili?" she whispered.

"I was one of the ones who helped save her," Guinevere said. "I was with Vash when he found her."

"You were?" Michelle whispered. "Then you know-?"

"Yes," Guinevere sighed. "And since you know little Lili, it means that you must be one as well, am I right?"

Michelle looked away but didn't answer. She jumped as she felt a gentle hand take hers.

"Don't mistake me, love," Guin said kindly. "I am not a threat to you or her. I am not going to do anything to you."

"Then what do you want?" Michelle asked curiously, still not meeting the shorter woman's eyes.

"I'm looking for Elizaveta."

At that, Michelle's eyes snapped up to meet Guinevere's. She gave a short, bark of a laugh without humor. "And why the hell are you looking for her?" she asked. "Do you have a death wish?"

"No," Guin shook her head. "I have a bone to pick with her about Lili."

"She will be picking _your_ bones clean before long," Michelle whispered. "I would advise that you stay away."

Guinevere was silent for a moment. "You know, Roderich was my friend," she finally said. "I do not mean Elizaveta any harm. I just want to make sure that what happened to Roderich will not happen to Vash or Lili. That's all."

"You are a fool," Michelle said bluntly.

Guinevere grinned. "I know, dearie," she said. "But I have to do this. I've been looking for Elizaveta for years, ever since we saved Lili. I love Lili; I refuse to see any harm come to her or Vash."

Michelle shook her head and sighed. "I presume that I cannot change your mind on this?" Michelle asked. Guin shook her head firmly. Michelle let out another sigh. "She's following us," Michelle admitted. "I've heard her and the others calling to me. They are keeping their distance at my request for now, but I do not know how long Elizaveta will consent to trail behind."

"So, if I follow you, then I'll eventually run into her," Guin stated. A smile spread onto her face. "Very well, then. Please contact me when you decide to leave."

"Didn't you say that you were waiting for someone?" Michelle asked. "What about them?"

Guinevere shook her head. "This is more important," she said. "I'll find him later."

"Very well," Michelle said. A moment later, she heard Gilbert calling her name. She glanced over her shoulder. "I must go now," she said quickly. "I will keep you informed."

"Thank you, Michelle," Guinevere said. She watched as Michelle wandered over to Gilbert, who looked relieved to see her.

Guinevere shook her head as Michelle disappeared onto the ship with Gilbert. "I've finally found you," she whispered, looking out over the water as if she could penetrate its dark, opaque depths with the intensity of her gaze alone.

"You know, you really are a fool aru."

Guinevere whirled around at the unexpected voice, drawing her pistol. A shadow landed beside her and she pointed her gun at it. Yao quickly grabbed her arm and jerked it up so that she could not shoot him.

"Put the gun away aru," he said.

"You little shit!" Guinevere snarled. "You were listening?"

"I was following the girl," Yao said dismissively. "I owe her and that Frenchman for a favor they did me."

"Who are you?" Guinevere snapped, jerking her arm out of Yao's grasp.

Yao smirked in the faint moonlight. "You obviously know who Elizaveta is," he said. "Do you know a Wang Mei?"

Guin raised a thin eyebrow. "Who are you?" she asked again, albeit in a softer tone.

"I'm her brother," Yao told her. "Wang Yao."

Guin just stared at him. "But, you are male," she said. "Lili said-!"

"Lili was right: there are no males," Yao said. "That does not mean that no males are born. They just end up being human."

Guin stared at him for another moment. "What do you want?" she asked finally.

"I want to help you," Yao told her. "I could be of some help to you."

"Could you influence Elizaveta?" Guin asked.

"I could definitely get her attention," Yao said cheerfully. "She would love to do to me what she did to poor Roderich. She has ordered me to never have contact with my sister. Not that I listen to her."

"She hates you," Guinevere said.

"With a passion," Yao confirmed. "But she refuses to upset Mei, so she leaves me alone on the condition that I never see Mei. Like I said, I don't really listen to her."

Guin grinned. "You want to get under her skin, and I want to make sure that she never retaliates against Lili and Vash. We could work together."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Yao said. "And if I go with you, there is a better chance that a certain someone will not find me again. And I could get closer to finding the one I'm looking for, while paying off the debt I owe the Frenchman."

Guin nodded but did not comment further. "Welcome to my crew," she said. She jerked her head in the direction of the inn that she was staying at. "Come with me, and we'll discuss this further." She cast another glance back over the black water before heading back to the tavern to pick up Brittany, Yao in tow.

_This ends soon, Elizaveta._

* * *

Francis slowly drifted into consciousness with a groan. His head was pounding. He opened his eyes to soft candlelight and looked over towards the source of the light, his eyesight blurry.

Michelle sat at the table, staring at the candle as if mesmerized.

"Hello, lovely," Francis called.

Michelle jumped and glanced over to him. "You have woken up?" she asked.

Francis reached out to her and she got up from her seat at the table and walked over to him. "You didn't leave me while I was asleep?" Francis asked her. He smiled. "You didn't swim away!"

Michelle froze. "What do you mean? Of course I didn't swim. We are on land."

"But you like to swim, don't you?" Francis said. "You don't like walking around. You didn't leave me and swim away!"

"Gilbert says that you are drunk and cannot think straight," Michelle said, more to herself than to Francis. She seemed comforted by this thought.

"I am not drunk!" Francis protested, trying to sit up. The world spun violently and he fell back down. He heard Michelle giggle, her melodious laugh flooding his ears. He smiled. "Does all of your kind have such lovely voices?" he asked her. "I think yours is the most beautiful out of all, ma cheri!"

"What do you mean, 'my kind'?" Michelle asked slowly.

"I mean girls who have fish tails," Francis laughed. "You are what they call a mermaid, are you not?"

"N-No!" Michelle gasped. "No! I'm not! You're crazy!"

"I know what I saw the night we first met," Francis said, laughing at her shocked face. "I saw your tail, ma cheri!"

"You are mistaken," Michelle whispered. "You are drunk."

"You are beautiful and you have a beautiful voice!" Francis gushed. "It is so beautiful that even the birds stop to listen! I had a suspicion that you were not human and I was right!" Francis looked back to Michelle just in time to see the hilt of his sword descending towards his temple.

* * *

**Angel Longstring has written a sister story to this fic, explaining how Guinevere is aware of the existence of mermaids, specifically how she knows Vash and Lili. It is a good fic. Check it out on her profile! It is called "Deep Oceans."**

**I am also writing a side story. This one is explaining how Yao came to be with Arthur in the first place. NO RAPE OR KIDNAPPING IS INVOLVED! It will be up sometime soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Just as a reminder, my friend Angel Longstring has written a sister story to this fic. It is up on her profile and is called "Deep Oceans." Please go check it out! It is really good!  
**

**I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of its characters. Hidakez Himaruya does.**

* * *

When Francis woke up again, it was to a pounding headache. He groaned a made to rub his eyes, but found that he couldn't move his hands. He cracked his eyes open, and upon further inspection found his wrists chained to the headboard of his bed.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

"Ah, so you are awake, mon ami?"

Francis slowly looked over to his left. Michelle was sitting at the table, staring at him and fingering his sword. His pistol lay on the table right by her arm. He didn't need to see it to know that it was loaded.

Francis smiled a little ruefully, trying to keep his nervousness out of his face and voice. "This is a dramatic turn of events," he said. "Would you mind telling me what I did to receive this treatment?"

Michelle was still staring at him with an expressionless face. "Do you not remember?"

Francis tried his best to think. He groaned. "I groped you, didn't I?" he said.

Michelle shook her head. "You told me something earlier," she said vaguely. "Something very strange. Tell me what you said to me."

Francis wracked his brains for an answer. His hangover felt like it was stabbing his brain over and over again. "I was drunk last night," he said slowly. An idea struck him. "Oh! Did I say something to offend you?" He shook his head. "I apologize if I said anything to insult you," he said earnestly.

Michelle shifted in her seat. "You definitely said something all right," she said. Michelle stood up and walked slowly over to the bed. She had a knife in her hand. Francis gulped. "Try to remember what you told me." Michelle sat down on the bed next to the captive Frenchman, fingering the dagger.

Francis thought hard again, but this only exacerbated his headache. "I don't-." And suddenly, it hit him. Her defensive mannerisms. The questions she was asking. He knew exactly what he had said. Without looking at Michelle, he said, "Did I perhaps imply that you have a tailfin, ma cheri?"

Michelle trailed the blade of the knife over his stomach, though not hard enough to cut him. "Yes, you did," Michelle responded. "May I ask what made you say that?"

Francis winced as the sharp blade cut into his shirt. "I was drunk," he said. "I don't mean what I say."

"I think you meant this," Michelle said slowly. "You seemed very convinced."

"So I guess I was right?" Francis asked. The knife was hovering over his heart, which sped up its rhythm.

"How did you know?"

Francis sighed. "That night I first saw you," he said, "two years ago. When you jumped out of my window into the ocean. For a brief second, I thought I saw a tail. That image has stuck with me, although there have been times when I thought that I must have imagined it." The knife was at his throat now. Francis fought the urge to swallow. "Then, there was the lobster incident," he continued. "You acted like you could understand the shellfish. You called him your 'friend.' The birds stop to listen to you when you sing. It was obvious that there was something different about you from the start. Besides, your reactions confirm it. You gave yourself away."

"If you knew this about me, then why did you come back?" Michelle asked. "You should have stayed away."

"I don't know why I came back to you," Francis whispered. "I couldn't stay away. The longer I put it off, the more restless I became. I had to find you again. It was as if your voice drew me back to you."

Michelle's grip tightened on the knife and the blade pressed harder against Francis' throat. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck as the dagger cut him. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," Michelle said in a deadly voice. The temperature in the cabin seemed to drop. "You know my secret."

"I don't have a reason for you," Francis responded after a moment. "I haven't told anyone, you know. And, I don't plan to."

"If I kill you now you won't have a chance."

"Well, if I die, then I might finally be rid of this nasty headache," Francis said weakly.

Michelle frowned. "Why are you being so calm about this?" she asked. "Don't you think that I am a freak?"

Francis shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I have never encountered one of your kind before," he said slowly. "But, I do not think that you are a freak, mon ami."

Michelle just stared at him. She clearly did not believe him. "If you only knew what we were capable of, then you wouldn't say that." Michelle shook her head slowly. "If you knew what I have done, then you would run as far away from me as you can."

"What have you done?" Francis whispered, knowing that he might regret the answer. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, his eyes still fixed on Michelle.

Michelle got up from the bed and began pacing back and forth in front of him while Francis watched her with wary eyes. She suddenly spun on her heel to face him, her dark hair snapping out behind her. It seemed to be getting colder and colder in the room. "You have _no idea,_" Michelle whispered. "I've killed people before; people like you, who wander onto our territory. To step foot on that island would normally spell death for any human. You are not the first one to come there; there have been countless others. They are all dead now, every one of them. All ripped apart, with their bones being eaten by fish at the bottom of the sea."

"Then why haven't you killed me or my crew?" Francis asked.

Michelle flipped a pigtail over her shoulder and paused for a bit before answering. "You may not believe me when I say that I have friends, but I do." A small, mirthless smile made its way onto her lips. "But, both of the times you have come, I have been alone. I knew that I could not handle all of you by myself, so all I could do was hope that you would leave quickly. I never expected to see you again, much less when I was alone again."

"Where were your friends?" Francis asked. He shifted on the bed, trying not to make it noticeable, and started to test the strength of his restraints.

Michelle let out a breath. "Hunting. Visiting other pods. We leave at least one of us on the island at all times, to defend our turf. Those were not the first times I have been alone, but it was the first time that I was discovered by a human."

"I see," Francis said. "And the reason you haven't killed me yet is because your friends are not nearby?"

"No, that is not it," Michelle said slowly.

"Then why did you wait for me to wake up?" Francis asked. "You could have just killed me and swum back into the sea. You could have come back for the rest of my crew if you wanted revenge. Why are you still here?"

Michelle crossed over to the window and looked out over the water, her hands resting on the windowsill. She didn't answer for a long time. Finally, she turned back to look at him, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. The stars danced around her head, like a diamond tiara. Francis could dimly see her ocean blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. "I'm… interested," was the slow reply. "I don't want to kill you yet. If I had truly wanted you dead, then I would have killed you long ago."

Francis relaxed a bit. At least she did not want to kill him right then. "What are you going to do now?" Francis asked quietly. "You know that I know your secret. What happens now?"

Michelle tapped her fingers against the sill thoughtfully. "Well, I can't let you go," she said. "You do know my secret, after all. I suppose I will stay with you for now." Michelle hesitated for a moment. "But, aren't you scared of me?" she asked in scarcely more than a whisper. "I've killed men before; I and my clan have ripped sailors from their ships, fishermen from their boats, dragged them down to the bottom of the ocean, and torn them apart while they still lived. And you still say that we are not monsters?"

Francis chuckled. "Well, I have never been exactly comfortable around you. The suspicion was always there. But, now that everything is out in the open I feel a lot better knowing that I was right about you."

Michelle shook her head slowly, in disbelief. "You are the strangest human I have ever known," she exclaimed. "I have observed people when I visited the mainland. Any sane person would run away from something like me, but you say you feel better around me knowing my secret. I don't understand you, mon cher."

Francis chuckled. "I guess that I am not sane, then," he said amusedly. He sobered up after a moment. "You said that you are interested in me, _non_? Well, maybe I am interested in you as well, Michelle." He grinned at her from the bed. "Now, would you mind releasing me?" he asked hopefully. "This is getting quite uncomfortable, and I would like to attend to my aching head."

Michelle smirked at him. "But, it is so amusing seeing you at my mercy, Francis," she called, a note of teasing entering her voice.

Francis' eyebrows shot up. "I do believe that that was the first time that you have ever called me by my name, ma cheri," he said.

"Don't get used to it, bastard," Michelle replied, although Francis could still hear the teasing in her voice. She walked over to him, producing a key. She paused before unlocking the handcuffs, staring down at him with guarded eyes. "You really aren't going to try to kill me if I let you go, now that you know my secret?" she asked.

Francis chuckled, and in one swift motion slid his wrists out of the handcuffs and grabbed Michelle around the waist. She shrieked as he pulled her down beside him. Francis planted a playful kiss on the top of her head. "I got free a while ago, ma cheri," he laughed. "You have nothing to fear. If I had wanted to kill you, then I could have. I do not want to hurt you."

Michelle sat up in a huff, not appreciating being roughly handled like that. "I see," was all Francis got as a reply, though Michelle was struggling to hide the shock in her voice.

Francis grinned at her and caught her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. "We come to a standstill, then?" he murmured. "I will not harm you if you do not harm me; although, I consider it a high crime to harm a delicate lady such as yourself."

"Humph! I am not delicate," Michelle muttered under her breath, a scowl on her face.

"Be that as it may, we have a truce?" Francis asked, holding out his hand for her to shake.

Michelle stared at his hand for a moment before putting her smaller brown one in his. They shook hands, and Michelle grinned, her white teeth flashing in the dim lighting. "Oui, we have a truce," she said, traces of laughter evident in her musical voice.

* * *

**So sorry for the long wait! Here is the new chapter! I feel like I say that a lot… It comes with being an English major. One of my awful professors assigned a novel to be read and a paper to be written, and this is all due the day I come back from Spring Break! *curses professor* At least I got to go to the beach with two of my best friends, Angel Longstring and Rahar Moonfire. Go check out their stories too! They are both really good writers!**

**Again, sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll have the next one out as soon as I can!**

**Also, as a reminder, I am writing a sister fic to this one, detailing Yao's story. Angel Longstring is writing one that gives background on Guinevere's point of view. It is already up on her profile, so go check it out! I'll have Yao's out when I can find the time and muse to finish it!**

**Please leave a review on this for me in the meantime!**


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